


Pub Night

by TheNightComesDown



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Music
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 16:02:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16998135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNightComesDown/pseuds/TheNightComesDown
Summary: After agreeing to attend a gig at a local pub, you meet Queen at one of their early London pub gigs. You and Gwil!Brian have an instant connection.





	Pub Night

**Author's Note:**

> First posting ever, let me know what you think! Constructive criticism is so welcome.

As was typical for a brisk October evening, the corner pub was packed with students from the local colleges. The lighting was low, and the room was getting warmer by the minute. Nearly every square foot of the floor was sticky with beer, much to your annoyance.  


_These are my good shoes, _you grumbled to yourself as you pushed past a group of chattering girls. Your friend had saved room at a table near the stage, but when you finally made it through the crowd, you noticed that the chairs had disappeared.  
__

__“Kate, where the hell are the chairs?” you groaned. “I can’t stand all night in these silly heels, my feet’ll fall right off.” Your friend looked under the table at your shoes and rolled her eyes.  
_ _

__“Maybe if you hadn’t insisted on wearing those ridiculous things,” Kate snickered, “you wouldn’t be in this situation.” With a frown, you reached into the basket of chips sitting on the table and threw one at Kate, but she was ready for it. She caught it in her mouth and raised her arms triumphantly. You rolled your eyes and leaned against the table, trying to take the weight off your feet.  
_ _

__“Why don’t you just take them off, Y/N?” Kate asked as she bit into another chip. “The floors are disgusting, but you can always wash your feet later.” You held your stomach with mock nausea and pretended to heave onto the floor.  
_ _

__“I’d be drunk as a skunk if I did that, Kate,” you said, pointing at a puddle on the floor beside you. “The beer would absorb into my feet and you’d have to carry me home.” Kate laughed, shaking her head.  
_ _

__“If you’re going to keep whinging on like that, you might as well go grab my pumps,” she said. “They’re on the floor in the back seat of the car.” Kate checked her watch. “Best hurry, Dean’s band is on in five,” she smiled, shooing you off with a wave. You looked down at your feet, wondering if it was really worth pushing through the crowd again. A blister was forming on the back of your heel, and the balls of your feet had been aching since before you left your flat hours earlier. With a sigh, you left the table and made for the side door. You glanced back at Kate, who was craning her neck to peer at the side-stage. Her boyfriend, Dean, was playing guitar with his mediocre band, and you had agreed to tag along because Kate hated going to Dean’s gigs alone.  
_ _

___I don’t even know why I agreed to come tonight, _you thought begrudgingly as you made your way across the room. As you passed a table of rowdy young men, you felt a hand graze your bum. You whipped around and slapped at the hand of a man you vaguely recognized from uni.  
___ _

___“Hands to yourself, creep,” you snapped at him. He smiled widely, and you wanted nothing more than to smack the stupid look off his face. Not wanting to stick around, you hurried to the door and pushed your way out into the cool night. You pulled your cardigan around your shoulders for warmth, and peered around the car park for the green Anglia Kate had borrowed from her father for the evening. You looked around, but didn’t recognize the fenced-off area at the far end of the lot.  
_ _ _

___“Shit,” you groaned as you realized that you had parked on the opposite side of the building. Your feet were aching, and it didn’t feel worth the effort to push through the sweaty crowd again to find the other door. With a sigh, you kicked your shoes off and leaned against the cool brick of the pub wall. You fished around in your bag for a cigarette, which you promptly placed in your mouth. Your lighter, however, was nowhere to be found. You cried out in frustration, and sat down on the cold pavement. The dress you had chosen was thankfully long enough to protect your thighs from the chill of the cement.  
_ _ _

___“Can I help you, darling?” a voice called out. You glanced around, and noticed a van parked beside the backstage door, maybe 20 feet away. The back doors of the van were open, and two men were lounging within. The voice had come from a third man, who was walking towards you. You stood quickly, and brushed your hands on the back of your skirt.  
_ _ _

___“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” you trailed off as the man approached you. It wasn’t common to see a man with such dark skin in these parts of London. However, that didn’t matter a bit to you, and you were completely distracted by his outrageous outfit. He wore leather trousers tight enough to make you blush, and a top with more sequins than you thought possible to fit on a single shirt. The neckline plunged nearly to his navel, showing off a swath of dark hair. His hair fell to his shoulders, with a fringe that was chopped bluntly across his forehead.  
_ _ _

___“Fancy a light, then?” he asked, holding out a lighter. You accepted, and he cupped a hand around the cigarette between your lips. The light of the flame illuminated his face. Despite the boisterous nature of his outfit, his smile was shy, and he met your eyes for only a moment at a time before looking away.  
_ _ _

___“Thank you,” you said, breathing out a cloud of smoke. He lit his own cigarette before stowing the lighter in the pocket of his jacket.  
_ _ _

___“Freddie,” one of the men in the van called out, “would you come look at this for a second?”  
_ _ _

___“Be there in a moment,” he called back. He looked back at you, and tilted his head toward the van, inviting you to follow. You picked up your shoes from the ground, and padded after him with bare feet. The ground was thankfully smooth, and there weren’t any of the bits of broken glass that were common outside many pubs you had visited with Kate. As you approached the van, the two men in the back looked up._ _ _

___“Roger, love,” Freddie crooned, “would you mind terribly if I asked you to give up your seat for this lovely lady?” The blonde man nodded and stood, gesturing for you to sit down.  
_ _ _

___“Thank you,” you said, “but it’s alright, I can ‘t take your seat.” Roger looked down at your bare feet and raised an eyebrow.  
_ _ _

___“It’s alright,” he smiled. “I’ve been on my arse all day, I could use a bit of a walk.” He placed a hand on Freddie’s shoulder, and the two walked to the front of the van to talk. You awkwardly perched yourself on the floor of the van, your bare feet dangling a few inches above the pavement. You looked behind you to see cords, amps and guitar cases piled high. The man beside you cleared his throat, startling you.  
_ _ _

___“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Hope there’s enough room there. We’re playing later tonight, so we’ve got all this shit still sitting in the van.” You nodded, suddenly feeling shy.  
_ _ _

___“It’s alright, thanks,” you mumbled. “Better than sitting on the ground, for sure.” He smiled, and tossed his head slightly to move a piece of hair away from his eyes. His hair, dark brown, framed his face in a mane of tight curls. He turned his attention back to the papers in his hands. As you smoked, you watched him quietly for a minute or two, but your curiosity got the best of you.  
_ _ _

___“What are you reading?” you asked, your voice higher than it normally was. He continued to read for a moment. You tossed the butt of your cigarette on the ground, and watched it go out on its own.  
_ _ _

___“Sorry,” he apologized, “just had to finish my sentence.” He held the stack out to you, and you held it close to your face, trying to read the words in the dim light.  
_ _ _

___“This seems quite complicated,” you said as you read the title, ‘The Singularities of Gravitational Collapse and Cosmology’.  
_ _ _

___“Well,” he cleared his throat, “simply put, it’s a paper by a physicist called Steven Hawking, and it’s a theory he’s come up with about how things work in space.” You offered the papers back, and he tucked them away gently in the bag beside him. “I’m studying astrophysics, which is basically…umm,” he hesitated, looking up at you to gauge your interest.  
_ _ _

___“Go on,” you nodded encouragingly. You noticed his hands, fiddling nervously with a coin. He pressed his lips together thoughtfully.  
_ _ _

___“It’s purely theoretical, you see,” he said, “but my studies focus on the stuff that makes up objects in space…dust, mainly.” He laughed to himself, and looked up at you with a rye smile. “I’m sure you think that sounds incredibly boring.”  
_ _ _

___“Maybe it’s not something I’d go to school for,” you said honestly, “but it’s something you have a passion for, so I think that’s brilliant.” His eyes lit up. He opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment, his band mates returned.  
_ _ _

___“Brian, darling,” Freddie called out, “we’ve got to start setting up. The fellows before us are winding their set down, and the crowd seems antsy.” Freddie looked to you, and swept his arm dramatically toward the backstage door.  
_ _ _

___“And you, my lovely lady,” he crowed, “are most welcome to sit backstage, where you can walk around and not worry about getting your feet sticky.” He looked from you to the dark-haired man beside you, and a hint of a smile crossed Freddie’s face. “I’m sure Brian would appreciate you staying to watch our show,” he said, cocking an eyebrow.  
_ _ _

___“Alright, time to go!” Brian said abruptly, standing up. You noticed a slight blush in his cheeks as a streetlight lit up his face. You hopped down from your seat and leaned against the wall to make room for the band to unload. Brian began hoisting cases from the back of the van, and Roger and another man you hadn’t seen before hauled them through the backstage door.  
_ _ _

___As you slipped your feet back into your shoes, the side door you had come through earlier opened, and out walked the man who had grabbed at you as you passed his table. He caught site of you and smiled widely.  
_ _ _

___“Why hello, gorgeous,” he said loudly, “what a pleasant surprise to find you out here.” He stumbled as he walked towards you. “You’ve been waiting for me, then, have you?” he slurred. As he reached a hand out toward you, he stumbled, falling onto the pavement at your feet. You stepped back, but not quickly enough, because he pawed at your leg and grabbed hold of your ankle.  
_ _ _

___“That’s enough of that, now,” Brian said sternly, grabbing the man by the shoulders and pulling him away from you. Freddie and the boys were beside the van, ready to intervene if needed.  
_ _ _

___“Sod off,” the man growled, “she knows me.” You raised your eyebrows at his, but said nothing. The man stood, and wasn’t nearly as tall as Brian, who stood over 6 feet._ _ _

___“She looks like she’d like you to stay away from her,” Brian replied, looking to you for confirmation. The man swung a heavy arm toward Brian’s jaw, but was too slow to catch him unawares. Brian stepped back to avoid being hit, and Freddie and Roger jumped into action, each grabbing an arm and pulling the drunken fellow away.  
_ _ _

___“Get off of me, you queers!” the man spit, but Freddie and Roger escorted him to front of the building, where he was deposited with the security guard at the entrance of the pub. As soon as the man was a safe distance away, Brian came to your side.  
_ _ _

___“Brian, I’m so sorry,” you said, looking up at him. “He grabbed at me earlier, and I recognized him as some tosser from the university, but I didn’t think he’d…” you trailed off, shaking your head angrily. Brian tentatively put a hand on your shoulder._ _ _

___“It wasn’t your fault,” he reassured you. “Some boys just won’t take no for an answer, and they need to learn how to be respectful of others.” He peered down at your legs, searching for scratches or any sign of injury. “Are you alright, though?” he asked, genuinely concerned.  
_ _ _

___“I’m fine,” you said, “just a bit shaken up.” As the reality of the situation hit you, a tear rolled down your cheek. Brian hesitantly put a hand against the side of your face, and brushed the tear away with his thumb.  
_ _ _

___“It’s alright to be upset,” he said gently. “But you’re safe. Freddie and Rog’ll take care of that wanker.”  
_ _ _

___“Of course we did,” Freddie called out as he waltzed up toward them. “But the show must go on, darlings, and we have less time to set up than we thought we would.” Brian moved aside as Freddie came toward you. “That fellow won’t be a problem anymore, dear,” he smiled, and leaned in to kiss your cheek. He gave you a wink before walking away to continue unloading. Brian cleared his throat awkwardly, tucking a hand into his pocket.  
_ _ _

___“So, can I maybe see you after our show?” he asked sheepishly. Your cheeks flushed red, but you met his eyes and smiled.  
_ _ _

___“I think that could be arranged, yes,” you said. Brian nodded, his hair bopping as he did so. He turned to leave, but before he left, you grabbed his arm.  
_ _ _

___“Hey, what’s your band called?” you asked. Brian laughed and rolled his eyes.  
_ _ _

___“Fred, what’re you insisting we call the band now?” he called towards the stage door. After a moment, Freddie danced out into the lot, and with a flourish, placed the finishing touch to his costume, a crown, upon his head.  
_ _ _

___“We are her majesty, Queen,” he crowed before ducking back into the pub.  
_ _ _


End file.
